


Old Habits

by hibernate



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Background Femslash, Ensemble Cast, Female Friendship, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 22:50:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5473445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hibernate/pseuds/hibernate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens with Josephine's sudden engagement if the Inquisitor does not get involved? Cassandra will have to deal with it, apparently, with the assistance of Vivienne, Sera and Leliana. Some are more helpful than others. Some are, to be frank, not helpful at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Habits

Vivienne's face is as unperturbed as always when she announces, just as Cassandra rams her shield into the training dummy with a loud thud, "There is a situation."

Cassandra does not enjoy being interrupted. There are only so many hours in a day, and she has all of them planned. Vivienne does not, however, ask for her assistance often.

"Is the Inquisitor in trouble?" Cassandra asks, counting in her head how long a fast-paced horse would take to reach Emprise du Lion. Letting the Inquisitor depart in the company of Varric, Dorian, and the Iron Bull was _clearly_ a mistake. 

"The Inquisitor is perfectly fine," Vivienne says with a dismissive wave of her hand, "but a friend of yours is about to make an ill-advised mistake, one that will cause an incident that would reflect poorly indeed on the Inquisition."

There are, in fact, quite a number of people among Cassandra's colleagues and acquaintances who would cause such incidents, some more likely than others. One more likely than most.

"What did Sera do this time?" she asks, bracing herself.

Vivienne actually laughs at that. "Oh no, my dear, I am perfectly capable of dealing with that little beast on my own. I was referring to Leliana."

"Leliana?" Cassandra frowns. "In my experience she can take care of herself, and she does not particularly appreciate advice, friendly or not."

Vivienne sighs. "Nevertheless, someone will have to take care of it, unless you want our dear Ambassador to spend the next few years in Antiva, dealing with the unfortunate and inevitable repercussions." 

"What exactly is it that she's about to do?"

"Oh, the whole business is terribly Antivan." Crossing her arms, Vivienne leans closer, lowering her voice ever so slightly. "But as I'm sure you realize by Leliana's involvement, someone is going to end up dead and it's going to be _quite_ inconvenient for the Inquisition."

"With all due respect, Vivienne," Cassandra says, "if there is a political situation, you are far more suitable to handle it than I am."

Vivienne smiles sweetly. "You are too modest, darling. Besides, my involvement in this would be entirely inappropriate."

Cassandra has fought a great many formidable foes on a number of different battlefields, but for some reason, she finds it extraordinarily difficult to say no to Vivienne.

 

*

 

Leliana is in the rookery, involved in what looks like a deep conversation with a bird.

"Cassandra," she says when she notices her coming up the staircase, "to what do I owe this pleasure?"

There is half a smirk on her face, and, all in all she is in a better mood than Cassandra is accustomed to. It seems like a somewhat dangerous sign. The bird crows, tilting its head and giving Cassandra a discerning look.

"I do not make a habit of involving myself in these matters," Cassandra says, putting herself at a relatively safe distance from Leliana's birds, "but I have been _informed_ that you sent your people in pursuit of someone who would best be kept alive."

Leliana is not the easiest person to read, but Cassandra interprets her lack of reaction to mean that she understands exactly what Cassandra is referring to. Plucking a loose feather from the bird, Leliana remarks, "You do not usually protest when my assassins pave the way before you."

"Usually I have faith that your proficiency at petty politics surpasses mine. Is that not why the Inquisitor supports your candidacy for the position as Divine over mine?"

At that, Leliana smiles, somewhat slyly. "I believe her reasons were more selfish," she replies. "What would the Inquisition do without its best dragon-slayer? I have heard grand tales of the last one you encountered."

"Don't change the subject."

Crossing her arms, Leliana pauses for a moment. "Josie's family arranged a marriage for her," she says, finally. "It is distracting her from her duties to the Inquisition."

"Lady Montilyet is engaged?"

"Not by her own choice."

Cassandra sighs, putting a hand to her forehead. "And you believe an assassination is the best course of action."

Leliana shrugs. "If you consider the options, it is the most practical one. Besides," she adds, turning so that the shadow from her hood obscures her face, "he is unworthy of her."

"That is hardly a reason to have the man _killed_." Cassandra sighs again, directing an unspoken curse in Vivienne's direction. "Call your assassins off. I will deal with this problem myself."

 

*

 

As Cassandra walks down the stairs from the rookery, entering the library, she cannot avoid noticing Sera, who is casually seated on the railing in a manner that looks rather dangerous, scrawny legs dangling. 

Grinning like a cat with a mouse between its paws, Sera says, "Josie's getting married."

"Eavesdropping is an ugly habit," Cassandra replies, shooting her a stern look. It does absolutely nothing to deter her.

"It's not eavesdropping if you blab your secrets where anyone can hear them." 

Cassandra finds it mildly worrying that she might actually agree with that assessment. The rookery seems a most unsuitable place for tactical decisions, no matter how much one appreciates the company of birds.

Turning and walking down the stairs, the pitter-patter of small elf feet follow behind her. Throwing a glance over her shoulder as they pass through the door to the main hall, Cassandra remarks, "If you were in the library to borrow a book, I believe you neglected to bring it with you."

"No," Sera says with a huff, skipping up next to her. "I was there to listen to your secrets. Why else would anyone spend time in a library?"

"I understand there are those who enjoy literature."

"Yeah, boring people. Y’know, like you. Books are stupid. So whatcha gonna do about it?"

Striding through the main hall with Sera hop-skipping next to her, Cassandra feels like the conversation has somehow gotten away from her. Frowning, she stops in front of the door that is her goal, turning to Sera. "About books?"

"About Josie!"

"It is most certainly _not_ my problem," Cassandra says, pulling the door open, walking through it, and closing it firmly between herself and Sera.

Through the door, Sera shouts, "If you want someone to mess with his food, I've got _things_!"

 

*

 

Josephine looks up from the papers on her desk as Cassandra opens the second door and walks into her office. "Seeker Pentaghast," she says, putting her pen down. "May I assist you with anything?"

"I understand you are to be married," Cassandra says, clasping her hands behind her back. "I am here to inform you that Leliana has taken it upon herself to eliminate your betrothed. I believe I persuaded her to desist, however Leliana is sometimes... unpredictable."

The look on Josephine's face is stunned, mouth partly opened in surprise. It is not until then Cassandra realizes that perhaps her approach might have benefited from a touch of subtlety. It is not, unfortunately, one of her strengths.

Picking up her pen once more, Josephine averts her eyes. "Does everyone in Skyhold know of my predicament, then?" she asks, long eyelashes casting shadows down her cheeks.

"Of course not," Cassandra quickly assure her. "Only Leliana and I. And Vivienne. And, well," — She clears her throat — "Sera."

Josephine puts her face in her hands, letting out a groan.

"I apologize for my indiscretion," Cassandra says, cheeks warming as she feels, suddenly, incredibly clumsy. "I should have realized it was a private matter."

"That is quite all right, Seeker — Cassandra." Josephine looks up from her hands, a wan smile pulling at her lips. "A betrothal is a most public affair, after all."

"I gathered from Leliana's reaction that you disapprove of the match."

Shaking her head, Josephine's smile grows brighter. "Not at all. I always assumed I would marry someone my family thought suitable, and I had no qualms about such a thing... _ah_ , but that was before the Inquisition. Maybe the mountain air has not agreed with me."

"When my uncle sent suitors my way," Cassandra says, "I found it helpful to use my fists."

At that, Josephine's smile turns into a chuckle. "Perhaps I should attempt that."

"Is there no way for you to turn down this proposal?"

"Certainly there is, but it would take time and a great deal of fine manoeuvering." Josephine sighs lightly, a pensive look coming over her face. "It might be in everyone's best interest, including my own, if I let the affair proceed unhindered."

"As I understand it, there are some people who don't consider an advantageous marriage the worst thing imaginable," Cassandra says. She may not be one of those people herself, but she does not know Josephine well enough to tell whether she feels one way or the other.

"Lord Otranto appears to be a respectable man," Josephine says, "and had the Breach not happened, I would probably — well. Things are different here, but one mustn't forget the importance of family."

"Or perhaps Leliana's idea was not so bad."

Laughing, Josephine shakes her head. "Please, do not encourage her."

She has a lovely laugh, untroubled and warm. Cassandra does not like that she cannot be sure if it's genuine. "Is there anything at all I can do to assist you?" she asks, in a final attempt.

"Fret not, Cassandra. You are very sweet, but I must deal with this matter myself.

 

*

 

One would think the issue would thus be solved. Some have differing opinions, though. 

Aiming her sword towards the training dummy, Cassandra pauses as a small object of some sort hits her on the side of the head. Another one strikes the back of her neck, staining her gloves red-blue when she reaches for it with her free hand.

Cassandra does not need to look up to know the source. "Is there a reason you are throwing blueberries at me?" she asks, lowering her sword.

From her window, Sera snorts. "'Cause there's _fruits_ in my dessert. Did you stop the wedding yet?"

"I believe I told you it is not my business."

"I dunno if you've seen Josie lately, but she's got this look on her face, yeah? The one that's all, 'someone stole my pastries and now I have to get married'."

Cassandra shoots a pointed look towards the item in Sera's hand. "Then perhaps you should not have stolen her pastries."

Sera has the gall to look appalled. "I'm hardly going to stop that, am I?” she says, throwing another blueberry, thankfully not in Cassandra's direction. "So it's up to you to fix the other thing, innit?"

Sighing, Cassandra shifts her weight from one foot to the other. "She asked me not to interfere. She was quite specific about it."

Sera makes a disappointed noise, stuffing the rest of her pastry in her mouth. It would not sting had Cassandra not already experienced a certain amount of frustration about her own involvement in the situation. "This cannot be of any interest to you," she snaps.

"I like it when rich tits _don't_ get married," Sera replies with a shrug. "Plus, if she did it'd make Leliana even scarier, who knows what crazy things she'd make her birds do."

"I'm sure Leliana will get used to the idea."

"Have you met her?"

"Lady Montilyet must make her own decisions," Cassandra insists. "Leliana is reasonable enough to understand that."

At that, Sera starts to laugh, hard enough that she disappears from her window for some time, presumably to lie down on whatever she uses for a bed in that little closet of hers. The sound of her laughter goes on for some time. Cassandra waits patiently, until Sera pokes her head out of the window again.

"Yeah, you're right," Sera says, "Leliana is the reasonable sort. Especially about murder and shoes and her lady love getting married to someone else."

"She is not — Josephine and Leliana are not... _involved_."

"Tell that to Josie's frilly underthings."

Cassandra is not sure what that's supposed to mean, but she _is_ rather sure that asking would be inadvisable. There are things she would prefer not to know.

" _Regardless_ ," she says, "unless you want me to go against Josephine's wishes and convince Leliana to send her assassins after all, there is little I can do. Unless you have some idea?"

"I dunno, but I have a spider collection if you need it."

"That is... good to know."

"Don't tell the Inquisitor, she's scared of creepy crawly things." Sera lowers her voice conspiratorially and adds, "I told her they were ladybugs."

Cassandra hopes this is one piece of information she will never have reason to know.

 

*

 

In the end, Cassandra finds herself seeking out Vivienne.

"I convinced Leliana to desist her assassination attempts," she tells her, as they walk out on the balcony overlooking the courtyard.

Vivienne looks up at the blue sky with a smile on her face, bathed in sunlight; she is striking, as always. "Excellent work, Cassandra."

"I suppose," Cassandra starts, not quite knowing how to phrase her discomfort. Her concerns are not so easily defined. "Lady Montilyet seems troubled," she finally says. "Perhaps it was a mistake to persuade Leliana to call back her assassins."

"Our Spymaster is not without her wits, but I'm afraid Josephine is one of her weaknesses," Vivienne tells her. "The murder of this man would cast a shadow over the Montilyet family, one I'm sure Josephine would be able to smooth over, in time, but it would almost certainly involve her being present in Antiva. I'm sure you agree with me when I say that the Inquisition would suffer without its Ambassador."

"Having interfered, I cannot help but feel a certain amount of responsibility."

"Josephine is a cunning negotiator. I'm certain she will do what she thinks is best. Has she asked for your assistance?"

"She has not." Cassandra shakes her head, feeling quite miserable about the whole business. "Quite the opposite."

"I understand." Vivienne tilts her head as she looks at Cassandra with a smile that seems almost fond. "Your concern speaks well of you, but a strategically sound marriage does not have to be a curse, at least not more so than a marriage based on emotional attachment."

"The latter does sound more palatable."

Vivienne reaches out to loop her arm around Cassandra's elbow, pulling her closer. "Don't be so quick to assume," she says, laughing softly, arm warm against Cassandra's side. "An Antivan acquaintance of mine found herself in an unwanted engagement some years ago. Her lover stepped in, winning her hand by facing the fiancé in a duel. Once they were wed, of course, that same passion turned to something less affectionate. As I understand it, their mansions are located on opposites sides of the country now."

Reluctantly, Cassandra allows a smile to tug at her lips. "There are the occasional downsides to romance."

"Marital decisions made in the absence of emotions," Vivienne replies, squeezing her arm, "are typically more agreeable, in the long run."

At that point, there is a very familiar giggle from somewhere under the balcony, and an equally familiar voice that shouts, "I'll do it!"

Glancing over the balcony ledge, Cassandra sees Sera standing below it, on the steps into the Main Hall, looking altogether rather pleased with herself. Vivienne merely sighs, as if it is not the first time this has happened. "Pull her up by her ears. They are, apparently, quite large enough."

"I'll duel Josie's rich idiot," Sera shouts from below, making as if she is pulling a bowstring back. "With an arrow. In his _eye_."

"The idea is preposterous," Vivienne says, untangling herself from Cassandra so that she can cross her arms before her chest. "Cassandra, will you be so kind as to get that little fennec away from me before I decide to skin and cook it?"

Experience has taught Cassandra that attempting to broker peace between Vivienne and Sera is a futile task, so instead she takes Vivienne's advice and departs, making her way to where Sera is standing and ushering her out of shouting-distance from Vivienne's balcony.

"I'll duel her _arse_ ," Sera mutters, casting furtive glances towards the balcony, and Cassandra takes her leave before she is tasked to intervene in the altercation between Sera and Vivienne's backside.

 

*

 

Vivienne is right: the idea is preposterous, impossible and ridiculous to even contemplate. Naturally, in the days to come, Cassandra cannot stop thinking about it.

The sun is out again the next day, bathing Vivienne's balcony in light. Vivienne is sipping tea in the warmth of the sun, smiling when she sees Cassandra. "How nice of you to join me, darling. The weather is quite pleasant this morning."

"The story you told me, about your Antivan acquaintance," Cassandra says without preamble. "Is it a respectable thing to do, duelling someone in such a way?"

"Of course," Vivienne replies easily. "Such melodrama is not unusual when it comes to matters of the heart in Antiva. They do love to leave a side-door open for romance in their politics — it's rather adorable."

Cassandra stands up straighter, feet planted firmly on the floor. "I will do it, then."

"Your loyalty does you credit, darling, but I'm afraid it's most unorthodox for someone who is not romantically involved with the unwilling bride or groom to do such a thing."

"But not impossible?"

Something Cassandra can't quite identify glimmers in Vivienne's eyes. "My dear Cassandra," she says, lips quirking into a sharp smirk, "I have found that very few things in life are truly impossible."

 

*

 

It is Cullen who arranges the encounter for her.

Walking into his office, Cassandra announces: "Lady Montilyet is engaged."

Cullen looks up from his desk with a somewhat bewildered smile on his face. "Truly? Pleasant news for once!"

"I am to challenge her fiancé to a duel."

“Oh."

"I would be grateful if you could send a message, issuing a time and place."

"Of course you would." Cullen sighs. "I always get to send the happiest messages."

It is settled then, and with the message sent, her mind cannot be changed. On the morning that she is set to depart, Leliana corners her in the stables. "I will be accompanying you," she says, and Cassandra does not bother to ask how she had found out.

Behind her, Sera bounces excitedly on her toes. "Me too!" she squeaks. "Not gonna miss you poke Lord Whatsisarse with a sword, am I?"

So there they are, the three of them on a trip to Val Royeaux, to fight an ill-advised duel so that Josephine can stay unmarried, and it's lucky that the roads are good and the weather is fine, because Cassandra finds it difficult enough without delays to ignore the voice in her head informing her of what a terrible idea it all is.

Once she is face to face with Lord Otranto, while a crowd gathers around them, it seems even more ridiculous.

Cassandra is familiar with a great many different weapons, but a rapier is not one of them. It has no substance to it, much like this charade of a fight — she has enough of a sense of these kinds of things to know that a deadly outcome would be poor form indeed. As much as she wouldn't mind skewering this Lord on her _ridiculous_ rapier, it would hardly put Josephine in a better position than the one she is presently in.

Lord Otranto is not a bad swordsman. Attempting to strike a balance between not killing him and not giving him an opening is more difficult than she expected. He attacks suddenly, blade slicing through the air, and Cassandra instinctively charges forward, raising her shield arm to block. The rapier catches on her gauntlet, finding the opening at her elbow under the arm brace. It doesn't particularly hurt, and it has the desired effect of putting Lord Otranto off his balance, but even a small amount of blood running down her arm and splattering on the paved ground makes a hiss go through the audience, as two people faint and a third runs away screaming.

As Cassandra takes a step back to regroup, a small pebble flies through the air to collide squarely with Lord Otranto's forehead. It stops him mid-step, a bewildered look on his face. 

From somewhere in the crowd, Sera yells, "Josie doesn't want to marry you!"

Another small object soars through the air, landing on his face. It's not a pebble this time. Judging by the twitch of Lord Otranto's face, it is also not a ladybug.

"Is this insolent child one of your associates?"

"It would appear so," Cassandra says, wiping her forehead.

Caught in a situation he no doubt did not expect, Lord Otranto — hesitates.

Leliana steps forward then, chin raised and arms crossed, a look in her eyes that Cassandra recognizes as very, very dangerous. "Seeker Pentaghast and her friend are both correct," she says. "Lady Montilyet is not interested in a marriage at this time. Tradition has its place, my Lord, but one does wonder why a man of your youth would choose such an old-fashioned betrothal."

"I value the customs of my people." His gaze travels from Leliana to Cassandra, and behind her, no doubt to land on Sera, eyes narrowing. "I wouldn't expect such... colorful characters as yourselves to understand the importance of our traditions."

Leliana remains calm, and all the more dangerous for it. She has not brought her bow, but Cassandra can count, by the lines of her coat, a number of knives hidden about her person. Like the tip of an iceberg, there are, no doubt, quite a few more somewhere under her clothes. Leliana had promised not to utilize her assassins, but it occurs to Cassandra that she never said she would not kill the man herself. 

Fixing Lord Otranto with her gaze, Leliana takes a step forward. "Convenient too, is it not, to lean on such traditions."

Lord Otranto does not get a chance to answer that, as in that moment, the crowd around them starts to stir. There is a kind of commotion somewhere, making people turn and mumble, and then, a loud, female voice rising above it all.

"Stop the duel! _Stop the duel_!"

Josephine is out of breath and flushed as she bursts through the circle of people around them, positioning herself strategically with Cassandra and Leliana on one side and Lord Otranto on the other. Beside Cassandra, Leliana takes a step back, retreating into the crowd.

"Lady Montilyet," Lord Otranto says, "I had come here expecting to fight one paramour, not three."

Shooting a stern glare in Cassandra's direction, Josephine replies, "They are my _friends_ , I assure you, nothing more."

"Be that as it may, they have sufficiently made their point." Lord Otranto bows deeply, not quite managing to erase the bewildered look on his face. "In light of this most unusual situation, House Otranto withdraws its proposal of marriage. Good, uh, luck."

 

*

 

Josephine is _not_ happy.

"I take full responsibility," Cassandra says, when they reach their camp outside Val Royeaux. The walk there had taken place under a strained silence and Sera was currently attempting to hide behind a tree.

"I don't doubt your ingenuity, Cassandra," Josephine says primly, "but I find it _quite_ difficult to believe that such a spectacle would be engineered by yourself alone. I am referring to Leliana, of course. This _scenario_ has her name written all over it."

Josephine retrieves a small bag from her saddle pack and wastes no time in fishing out a bottle of brandy. She is not particularly gentle as she grabs a hold of Cassandra's arm, pulling off her gauntlet and baring her elbow, pouring a healthy amount over the scratch she obtained during the duel.

"I assure you, the idea was mine," Cassandra says, wincing not so much from the sting as the angle Josephine is twisting her arm.

"Yes, she has a way of making people think that," Josephine replies, twisting Cassandra's arm further as she practically glares at the slash along it. "There are certain _old habits_ that she has been reluctant to shake."

Leliana has, in her usual circumspect way, disappeared into the shadows, leaving only a message that 'urgent business' has called her back to Skyhold. Her absence does seem somewhat convenient. "Then I am the fool," Cassandra says, "and the responsibility is still mine."

"Oh, I'm not saying you are not at fault, far from it." From her bag, Josephine extracts some manner of cloth that she wraps around Cassandra's arm, rather more tightly than Cassandra would prefer. "You were still the one with the sword."

"If indeed Leliana orchestrated this, it is only because she cares for your well-bei— _ouch_."

In her attempt to secure the strip of cloth to Cassandra's arm, Josephine squeezes her fingers — accidentally, of course, Cassandra is _almost_ certain of that — quite harshly against the wounded area. The combination of arm-twisting and surprisingly sharp fingers is quite painful. 

"That hardly gives her the right."

"It does not," Cassandra agrees. "It was presumptuous of me as well, to challenge Lord Otranto without first discussing it with you. It seemed likely you would decline my involvement, however.”

" _Of course_ I would have."

"I apologize, but I cannot regret the results of what I did."

Josephine sighs, finally letting go of Cassandra's arm. The relief is is instantaneous. "Neither can I, I suppose. You did cut short what would most likely have been a rather lengthy affair."

Cassandra is not sure if she is referring to the process of ending the engagement, or the marriage that would most likely have been a fact had the duel not taken place. "Then you should not be so hard on Leliana either," she says, glancing down at her arm. She cannot fault the ingenuity of Josephine's well-crafted bandage, made of what appears to be a handkerchief and a sock.

"I must write to my parents at once, as people will no doubt make up wild stories about me and every one of you. Some of them about all four of us at once, I'm sure. Engaging in duels usually has that effect."

At the thought of the rampant gossip that Skyhold seems to be infested in at any given time, Cassandra makes a disgusted noise. "I am a Seeker of Truth. People would not dare to discuss my personal affairs."

Josephine smirks, giving Cassandra's shoulder a pat. "Of course they wouldn’t.”

 

*

 

Cassandra spends some time considering Josephine's words on the way back to Skyhold, and in the days after. Thoughts stew as she spars with Cullen's soldiers until they start to look nervous at the mere sight of her stalking through the courtyard.

She had intended to bring her suspicions to Vivienne, to inform her that they may both have been pawns in someone else's game, but when she finds herself face to face with her, the words do not come.

"Did you want something, my dear?" Vivienne asks, when Cassandra says nothing, standing quietly in front of her on the balcony.

"Josephine blames Leliana for what happened in Val Royeaux," Cassandra says slowly. "I'm not certain I agree."

"As I recall, the idea was your own. It turned out rather well, don't you think?"

Putting her hands on the balcony ledge, Cassandra looks out over the courtyard. "Actually, you were the one who inspired the idea," she says, an edge creeping into her voice. "Did the two of you discuss the most efficient way to make me act?"

Vivienne laughs. "Don't be ridiculous," she says, shaking her head. "You know I can't abide Leliana's laughable and, quite frankly, _dangerous_ idealism."

Cassandra does not laugh in return. "I am not a sword you can point in whatever direction you require a pointed end. I do not enjoy being lied to."

"I don't lie, my dear." Vivienne studies her, tilting her head, as if carefully choosing her words. "Had Lord Otranto been assassinated, it would have required the Inquisition to get by without our Ambassador for some time, while she smoothed things over. That is simply unacceptable."

"I suppose a marriage would have required Josephine's presence elsewhere, as well."

Smile fading, the gaze Vivienne levels Cassandra with is concerned but unwavering. "My intention," she says, "was only ever to extract Josephine from an unwanted engagement. It seemed the preferable alternative — for her, for the Inquisition, and for our dear, overprotective Spymaster. If I have hurt you, I am truly sorry."

"You have not hurt me," Cassandra says. "Surprised me, perhaps.”

Vivienne reaches out to put her hand on Cassandra's, where it rests on the balcony ledge. "You must know that I think the world of you, Cassandra," she says, a troubled crease forming between her eyebrows. "Anyone can be made into a weapon, but very few are as extraordinarily effective as you are. You were quite glorious, as I knew you would be."

Cassandra looks down, gaze lingering on Vivienne's hand on her own. "I suppose that is a compliment."

"Not at all," Vivienne says, the timbre of her voice softening. "It's simply the truth."

"Perhaps next time you would consider informing me of your intentions instead of manipulating my actions. I am not so impossible to reason with."

"Old habits die hard."

"Perhaps," Cassandra says, "they don't die at all."

 

*

 

Cassandra does not make a habit of listening to rumors, but Skyhold is a cesspool of the worst sort of gossip. Some things are impossible to avoid, even for her. Everyone talks about the Inquisitor, but that is hardly new or surprising — especially considering that the Inquisitor herself is responsible for starting at least a good third of the rumors herself. 

There are, of course, a great many words spoken about the Ambassador and Sister Nightingale. Josephine gives nothing away, but some of the hard edges in Leliana's face smooth out into something else, and on occasion, Cassandra catches her with a secret smile on her face. There is no need for Cassandra to ask.

Other rumors are spoken in more quiet voices, and Cassandra would not have caught it at all, had a windy day not carried a fragment of a whisper on a breeze. 

_Perhaps_ , someone, somewhere, says, _a mage will sit on the Sunburst Throne_.

 

*

 

_"How do you make a game that you always win?" Cole wonders, curious eyes gazing up at Vivienne from under his hat._

_Vivienne raises her chin high, the staff on her back catching the light from the sun. "Practice."_


End file.
